"Give me ten days, and I can give you ten reasons not to die." Evan paused. "And if I can't change your mind by then, you can go jump off that cliff."

He just sits there. On seat 31. Reading a book or listening to his music. He looks out of the window. Or looks at her. She just sits there. On seat 30. Reading a book or listening to her music. She looks out of the window. Or looks at him.

“i give a fuck. i give a lot of fucks, actually. i'm a prostitute of feelings.”

Howl at the moon, scream at the stars, say hi to the sun, sure ― promise me one thing, though, that you won't get lost. It's a big world out there, little boy, and you're not ready to face it just quite yet. #486 chicklit 2/23

❝i've delicately chosen letters to form words and words to form sentences, each sentence a colorful paint stroke on the canvas of my mind.❞ [ #1 in poetry on 27/08/16 ]

you are a tidal wave and she is constantly out of reach.

~ After all we are all just humans, blinded by our insecurities and flaws.~ Just some random spoken poetry from this potato on the other side. #645 in Random 25/05/15 #510 in Poetry 2/03/16 #FreeYourBody